pulse of 80s music conversation swirls between drinks
bubbles rolling under the tongue
bank holiday getaway beermats
not getting any younger doesn’t mean you have to feel older
people stream in shadows pour across the floor
names that haven’t spilt from my lips for years
and you wonder how long the puddle will last
names scribbled by a dartboard
the faint clunk of potted pool *****
dialogue fizzles like tablets in water
voices dripping coming then going
wilt into the cool spring night
Written: April 2016. Explanation: A poem written in my own time, mostly constructed during a mini school reunion of sorts at a local pub named 'Oliver Twist.' This piece is similar to a previous poem of mine with the same title (minus the 'II'), which you can also find on HP. There have been minimal changes from the first draft. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page. NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.